


Eternity

by Flutterbye_5



Category: Merlin (BBC), Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Merlin, Bonds, Bromance, Camelot, Capture, Dragonlords, Dragons, F/M, Hate, Love, Magic, PTSD, Romance, Torture, Warlocks, a general hate for others, annoying friends, awesome friends, bandits, friends - Freeform, otp, prat princes, some multiple-personality disorder, terrible fathers, wise people, withces
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-08
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutterbye_5/pseuds/Flutterbye_5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin and Morgana have spent six months in the dungeons in Arida, a far off kingdom to the north. They have their weak and their strong moments, and they always have each other. They are planning to escape, and upon their return to Camelot, Arthur and their friends notice that there's something... off... about the two. Merlin won't let anyone lay a finger on Morgana, and Morgana hardly allows anyone to even breathe on him.<br/>While the witch and warlock's friends are trying to understand their fluctuating tendencies and odd behavior, they have to come to terms with what happened in those cells, and worry about how far their captor will be willing to go to get them back.<br/>Secrets are nothing new to the two, but now there can be nothing hidden between them if they want to keep themselves, and Camelot, safe. And now a third party may come to play.<br/>There's something... dangerous, lurking in Merlin and Morgana. A darkness they're fighting to escape. Can they? Or will they succumb to the darkness within them, and leave their destinies behind?<br/>Nothing is as it seems in the city of Camelot. How will fate come to play?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dechrau

Merlin bit harshly into his tongue. Pain and blood blosomed on his back, the rivers of red blending with the older, dried ribbons.  


"Please!" Morgana cried, "I'm begging you, stop!"  


Another lash.  


Merlin groaned. Morgana wept.  


"This was his choice, woman," the monster of a man barked, lashing the whip again.  


Her chains rattled as she desperately tried to move closer to her brave friend. Her best friend. Her love.  


"Let him go!" she screamed.  


"M'gana," Merlin practically growled through grit teeth, "Shut. Up. Please."  


By the end of his words, his growl had melted into a beg.  


Eyes watering again, Morgana nodded her head weakly.  


Her eyes never left his as his torture raged on; whips, knives, fists, and words battering his body and mind.  


Each time a sop slipped from Morgana's lips, a calloused hand would roughly make contact with her face with a sharp whack, and Merlin would growl would snarl and pull at his chains a little more than before.  


By the end of the cruel session, Merlin's breaths were shallow and the whole side of Morgana's face was turning a molten purplish-blue.  


They were tossed mercilessly into their cell. Merlin propped himself up with a groan. Noting the tension in his body, Morgana crawled on her hands and knees toward the warlock, reaching out and grasping his hand firmly.  


He was her anchor, and she his. They held each other to reality, reminded each other what compassion and love felt like, what it was to be caressed instead of beaten. Morgana soon found that the touch of any other would burn like the flames of hell, no matter how gentle it was supposed to feel.  


It had been six months since they were brought to these cells, and Morgana was not sure how much longer Merlin would last. He took on all of her beatings, have her larger rationings of the meager proportions of food and water that were given to them, protected her from horny guards who thought they could get lucky.  


He was strong. Powerful. He knew how to fight, and that was what surprised her the most. Back at home, in Camelot, he stumbled and fell, he bumbled about, could barely lift a sword.  


But here, he was fierce. He could throw a knife from across a field and still hit the target. He did.  


When they had first been attacked, Merlin had panicked. Morgana had been pushed to the cold, harsh ground with a sword held to her neck. Merlin had been too far away to attack the man head on. So he had grabbed a knife and prayed to whoever was listening that he wasn't too rusty with a blade.  


Back in Ealdor, as hard as it was to believe, Merlin had been the protector of the small settlement. He was brilliant with knives and a just as skilled archer. He never really could get the hand of a sword. But what he was truly good at was hand-to-hand. Wrestling with Will and getting into fights with other kids who called "freak!" across the clearing taught him through experience. He got better and better, until it didn't even matter when a bandit broke his bow.  


Paired with his magic, Merlin was a great warrior, but he preferred to keep it hidden. He wanted neither the attention nor praise that would come of his display of skills.  


So when Morgana had the sword held firmly to the pale flesh of her throat, Merlin was ashamed to admit that he had hesitated for the smallest second.  


But his moment of doubt went as soon as it came.  


The knife flew.  


It hit the man in the neck, right below his jugular. He had quickly bled out.  


Morgana had looked on in wonder, but Merlin wasn't even close to being done. The knights accompanying them were long since knocked unconscious or dead. Merlin claimed a few more blades.  


The knives he had obtained were quickly lost. More and more men had arrived. It was then that realization had dawned on Merlin. These men were not bandits, but mercenaries. They had been set up.  


Merlin had fought with all his power, but all of his efforts failed in the end. Had he chosen to continue as he had been, they would have lost far more than they had bargained for.  


So Merlin made a split second decision. He used magic. It had just been him and Morgana left, and strangely, he did not feel any regret, even as he was knocked unconscious by a harsh blow to the back of his head. The last thing he heard was Morgana scream his name.  


She had questioned him ruthlessly in the cells, and she had soon sucked every last bit of information from him.  


It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  


Morgana had seen the relief and regret in his cobalt blue orbs, and after a few hours of pouting and more shouts, she forgave him.  


As the weeks had come and gone, they grew closer and closer. They went from acquaintances to friends to best friends, to maybe something a little bit more.They began to hold each other closer and closer; it became less and less about warmth and more and more about wishing for the comfort of the feeling of their bodies pressed together.  


And they shared everything with each other. From the happiest memories, to the most painful: one time a mother gave Merlin a full meal for protecting her baby from bandits- something he had never had before; Arthur one time disguised Morgana as a man so that she could learn swordplay; Merlin had felt the lash of a whip before; Morgana had been degraded by Uther and her status as a Lady of the Court.  


The chains binding his magic were weak, and often times they conversed in their minds, rather than out loud. The chains still held him though, even as they weakened by the day from his power. Healing became increasingly difficult for him as he was deprived of his power- of the very essence of him. At the beginning, he had shuddered and emptied his stomach of its contents, his body unable to handle the strain. He was glad the chains were not stronger, for if they had, he would have spiraled into a coma, and fast.  


Morgana took to calling him ‘Emrys’ as they discussed magic, and ‘Em’ or ‘Emmy’ as a nickname. He wasn’t really just Merlin to her anymore. He was everything, and as a result she had found a mixture of magic and man.  


Merlin called her ‘love’, and neither commented on the true meaning of that word until much later in their imprisonment. At first it was used in a teasing, friendly way. But as the weeks passed, he became increasingly sincere, until ‘love’ became ‘my love’ and Morgana’s heart became decreasingly cold and bitter with her hate for others. She still loathed Uther and his ideals, but she understood Merlin’s adamancy to protect Arthur and the people of Camelot. She announced to him that as long as Arthur cared for Merlin and never hurt him intentionally, she would not take action against her brother. Merlin thought this fair and was, deep down pleased in her fierce protectiveness of him.  


_“Em, we must escape soon,” _she whispered to his mind, once she saw him regaining a semblance of his strength.  
__

_“Yes,” _he agreed.  
__

Morgana was surprised. Usually he disagreed and said something about patience.  


_“I have been plotting, my love. I have just recently thought of an idea. These bonds on my magic are weak. I can feel them getting weaker by the day as my power itches to be released. By tonight they will be nothing more than chains that will easily be broken. My injuries have hindered me, but I will be ready. I do not wish to see you suffer here any longer." _  
__

Morgana smiled and hummed into his shoulder.  


They would bide their time. 


	2. Dianc

They held each other closely. Morgana’s legs straddled Merlin’s lap, her arms cradled close to her chest as her head rested in the apex of his neck and shoulder. His arms hung about her waist, the manacles that cut into his wrists creasing her ripped dress. Merlin shifted, and his hands gripping her pulled her closer to his chest and his nose nudged her cheek. 

_“Emmy?”_

 _ _ _“Let’s go.”___

 _ _ _ _They made their move. The final bit of power dripped from his chains and they dropped from his wrists with a flash of gold. Hers fell soon after, and the cell door creaked open.____

 _ _ _ _

They rubbed absently at their bleeding, ripped wrists as they emerged from their prison. Stealthily, they disarmed the guards and moved through the passageways of the castle. They didn’t come across many, and those they did were swiftly taken care of. 

They soon found their way to the forest bordering the citadel. 

“That was easy. Almost too easy…” Merlin mussed, attempting to control his ragged and labored breathing. 

“Emmy…” Morgana began, but she was cut off. 

“I’m fine. Let’s go home.” 

They traveled on, through the woodlands, but they did not get very far. Merlin’s wounds had been crudely sewn with magic, and the welts marring his back seeped apart and blood oozed slowly from the ripping lines. He used his magic to slow the blood loss and dull the pain, but his magic could only do so much for so long before it began to fade. 

“Em,” Morgana warned “Emrys,” she said firmer when her keen eye spotted him beginning to sway. When he didn’t respond, worry began to sink into her consciousness “Merlin.” 

He turned slowly to face her. 

“I’m-“ 

The blood suddenly rushed to his head and his vision swam. His magic receded back into his soul, and pain spread everywhere. His back burned with a fury, and his arms and legs stung and tingled sharply, his head holding an intense throb. He wanted to scream, but he had much practice in keeping his pain in. Instead, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed onto the forest floor. 

_“Merlin!” _she cried.__

 _ _He couldn’t hear her.__

 _ _

Tears of desperation welled in her eyes as she knelt beside him. 

“Help…” she whispered hoarsely, cupping his face with one hand, brushing his tangled bangs back from his pale forehead with the other. Sunlight began to rise over the horizon. 

“Please! Someone please help him! HELP!” 

She was screaming, yelling, crying. Merlin’s forehead was burning, and his breathing became increasingly erratic. He sweat and shivered, curling into her warmth. She felt his aching pain in the far distance of her mind, causing her to quiver. Their life force was twitching, fading slightly. 

She heard a twig snap. Her head whipped around, and she pulled Merlin’s shoulders and head closer to her chest, casting her eyes about cautiously. Morgana prayed that whoever was there was a friend, not an enemy. She was weak from starvation, hurting from her capture, and so, so tired. 

A twig snapped again. Morgana spotted a group of men approaching through the trees. Their armor glinted in the harsh morning light, the tips of their swords eying her menacingly. Morgana felt fear strike her. 

_“Morgana?” _she heard the man at the front of the group ask incredulously, his voice filled with hope. “Arthur,” she spoke roughly. Once she understood who the armored men were, she couldn’t spare them the attention. She looked to Merlin’s resting face, contorted with pain, and stroked his cheek with her thumb.__

 _ _A hand came down on her shoulder and she flinched violently, slapping the hand away.__

 _ _

Arthur pretended to not be hurt by her actions, and instead moved his eyes to the figure in her grasp. 

He blanched when he saw Merlin’s unnaturally pale face. The blonde prince’s eyes traveled down his body, taking in the warlock’s bare chest. The only word that came to mind was, shamefully, _disgusting._

 _ _A pink burn, long healed, bloomed on his heart; raised lines, little dents, and darkened spots littered his chest and shoulders. It was knarred and messy; some old, some looking recent, and some still healing.__

 _ _

Following his gaze, Morgana felt anger surge through her. Glaring scathingly, she gently positioned herself over her partner’s bare chest. With her neck now exposed for all eyes to see, Arthur saw the burn. _Welt, _really. It was still pink and healing; raw looking and angry. The letters were clearly printed- no, _branded _\- onto the ivory skin of her neck, like a collar, running continuously around her throat. With a glance back at Merlin, Arthur found his manservant sported the very same mark, just above a thin, white line. Another scar.____

 _ _ _ _The words were gibberish to him, the letters forming what he supposed were words, which had a meaning, he couldn’t even guess.____

 _ _ _ _

Looking away quickly, Arthur gestured for one of the knights to lift his manservant from the ground, but Morgana growled like a feral cat. She knew it was irrational- her brother just wanted to help, as did his knights. But no one besides her had shown him a kind touch in six months. The biggest part of her mind was screaming to protect him and herself; to preserve their life. 

“Don’t you dare _touch _him,” she sneered, covering her Emrys’s body with her own. A small part of her mind whispered that there was no threat, that she was overreacting.__

 _ _“Morgana,” Arthur said softly, attempting to be gentle “We must get him to Gaius.”__

 _ _

Still jittery and nervous, Morgana nodded. 

“Only Arthur may touch him,” she said quietly, moving her eyes to the raved haired man beneath her “And I wish to stay as close to him as possible.” 

Arthur regarded her for a moment before sighing. 

“We were hunting in the outskirts. We have a cart for game, and haven’t caught anything as of late, so it’s empty. You two can rest in that. Leon and I will pull it.” 

Once Arthur placed Merlin’s unconscious body into the small wooden cart, Morgana crawled quickly beside the servant, curling herself around him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her hand rested on his head, her fingers threading themselves through his ebony locks. 

Arthur didn’t know how to handle Morgana’s newfound affections for his manservant, so he did what he normally did. He ignored it. 

“Sire,” Leon ventured cautiously, eyes flickering between the pair and his prince. 

“We will settle these matters upon our return,” he decided. Mounting his horse, Arthur gestured for the men to ready themselves. He went to order the men to carry on, but he hesitated. 

“Morgana?” 

“Hm?” 

“What is that around your neck? What does it mean?” 

“Fy enaid Rwy'n addo i ti ar gyfer yr holl Eternity.” 

“So what does it mean?” 

He received no answer, so he carried on.

__

____

__

__

__

__

__


	3. Creulondeb, Love, a Gofal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -italics with quotes is a mental message.  
> -plain italics is a personal thought.  
> Warnings for unpleasant themes and sexual content.

Sometime along the journey, Morgana fell into a deep slumber, curled into Merlin’s side, settling herself in the softest way possible onto his injured frame. 

It was not long before her silence turned to whimpers to mumbled words to frantic shouts. 

“No! Let him go! Don’t hurt him! Please, please, please, please, please. He’s all I have!” 

“Someone wake her!” Arthur hissed desperately. 

One knight trotted forward. Reaching within the cart, he shook Morgana’s shoulder as gently as possible. After a series of shakes, she woke with a yelp and looked at no one as she buried her face in Merlin’s shoulder, trembling as she tried not to weep. 

The men gave her the illusion of privacy as they looked away. 

By the time they arrived in the citadel, it was well into the afternoon. Morgana had recovered from her dream, but still clung to Merlin like a second skin. Arthur handed the reins of the horses over to a servant and ordered another to retrieve Gaius. 

“Come now, Morgana. It is time to visit Father,” he said softly, allowing her to remove herself from the cart, unassisted. 

She swayed a bit, but righted herself before anyone was able to come and aid her. 

She went to follow Gaius to his chambers, but Arthur took her by the shoulders and guided her away. 

“No… I have to make sure he’s okay,” she mumbled, reaching out to Merlin’s body, which was being carried away. 

“You must speak with Father first,” Arthur said, guiding her to the throne room. 

She did not relent quietly, shouting and shoving before realizing that resistance was futile. 

When the great doors opened, Uther stood merrily, greeting them with a smile. 

“Morgana, we were concerned that you would not be found,” he said reverently “I am incredibly glad that you have returned to us.” 

Morgana smiled weakly, her mind still on her warlock in the physician’s chambers. She wrung her hands and shifted on her feet. 

“I apologize if this gives you bad memories, but do you know why you were taken?” Arthur prodded. 

She hesitated for the smallest moment, gripping her upper arms with both hands, digging her nails into the soft flesh of her skin. 

“They wanted information, pain, punishment. They wanted to break us.” 

She shuddered, moving her arms again to clutch at her ripped shift, wringing it in her palms. She remembered the sound of Merlin’s pain filled grunts and the calloused hand that beat her cheek. 

“What did they _do _to you?” Uther asked furiously.__

 _ _Morgana flinched with his angered tone.__

 _ _

“Th-they wh-whipped and b-beat him,” she choked, biting her lip, trying earnestly to not let tears come to her eyes “Cut and b-broke him. They t-tried to make him s-scream, but he n-never w-would. Eventually, they s-stared to bring me in to w-watch. He w-would yell for them to t-take me a-away, begged me to c-close my e-eyes, b-but hearing his s-soft sounds of p-pain was unb-bearable. The-they would s-slap m-me when I did a-anything but w-watch. T-they would hea-heal him cr-crudely with m-magic so that he w-wouldn’t di-die, but n-near the end we were w-wishing for d-death.” 

Morgana covered her mouth with her hand suddenly, attempting to catch a sob. 

“Now he could d-die, and it’s all my fau-fault!” 

“It’s not your fault, Morgana,” Arthur consoled as gently as he could. Uther just stood, uncaring of the tale of the boy’s suffering. 

“Y-yes it i-is! He to-took what was supposed to be my pa-pain! Gave me more f-ood, protect-ted me from those mons-ters!” 

She was hysterical, hiccupping and catching her breath, most of it dry and heaving, like her body couldn’t muster the tears. 

“I care not for this _servant _boy. You are what matters,” Uther proclaimed, clasping his hands behind himself.__

 _ _“Would you care for me if I told you that I am no longer innocent? That my maidenhead is not my own?” Morgana growled, her previous grief melting into anger. In her vexation, she forgot to heed her tongue.__

 _ _

Uther’s lips became thin, his fists clenching and jaw tightening. His face turned a blood red, his eyes like slits. 

“What?” he roared. 

Morgana flinched and took a step backward. 

“You have been ruined? What is your worth now? No good man will wish to have you!” 

The words were harsh, biting. Even Arthur took a breath of incredulity. 

“I do not wish for a good man! I wish for M-Merlin! I want hi-him! No one e-lse!” she cried, knowing in the recesses of her mind that she was letting her anger get the best of her. 

Uther raised his hand to slap her, his leather-clad hand reaching out to take a fistful of knarred raven curls to bring her face closer to his livid eyes and growl at her. 

Morgana’s eyes widened, her eyebrows raising and crunching together, her mouth slightly agape in a silent scream. She curled into herself, her bare toes pointing in the empty space to the king’s right, towards the nearest door. In her haste to escape his approaching hand she fell backward, covering her face with her arms. 

“Get out of my sight!” he roared. 

“Father!” Arthur exclaimed, pulling Morgana up by her forearms and pushing her behind his broad frame “She could have been raped!” 

“I care not!” the king bellowed, waving his hand dismissively “She no longer has any worth as a Lady of the Court! No respectable man will have her now!” 

The prince thought for a long moment, eyes slightly wide and eyebrows brought together. Slowly, a light came to him. 

“So give her to Merlin!” he tried to reason, “He has withstood intense interrogation and torture, protected a Lady! He has done far better than any knight I have seen! Give Morgana to him as a gift!” 

The idea was a bit half-baked, Merlin being a peasant from some far away settlement. He was born with nothing and, according to law, would die with nothing. In theory, it was an excellent solution. 

Morgana felt sick. They were speaking of her as if she were an object or a fine horse in the stables. A “gift” to be given. Though she conceded that if she, in fact, was to be “given”, she would prefer, virtually wish, to be given to her Merlin. Her Emrys. 

It was then that she made her decision. She loved Merlin far too much to be taken away from him. If this proposal did not pass, he would be executed for holding the affections of a Lady. 

She would request, beg if she had to, to be “given” to Merlin. She hated it, the thought of degrading herself to the point of being passed off as something without a mind of it’s own, but it was either this or his death. If she wished to be with him, wanted him to continue living, then she would present herself as nothing more than an object in the court. She was “ruined” to them, but she knew better. Merlin knew better. She was worth _more _than ever before because she had joined with the man she loves.__

 _ _Arthur broke her from her thoughts.__

 _ _

“How did you escape in the first place, Morgana?” he tried to deviate the subject line. 

She smiled softly, if a bit strained. 

“It was Merlin. I was hasty in my desire to be free. He stopped me from making many foolish mistakes. He said we should have waited, let the time pass until they lessened the patrols. We bode our time, and in turn we had a relatively easy escape. They thought we were broken, and Merlin _knew _that they thought that. But we were strong. He was strong.”__

 _ _She wasn’t lying. He had done all of those things, though she made it sound a bit more elegant.__

 _ _

Uther, though still incensed, considered the facts that the new information brought to the table. He could not just give his ward to a _peasant, _even if she was sullied. He could give the boy a small area of land, far off in the outskirts and include Morgana as a house-warming gift, but that was to giving for a king of his demeanor. Uther mulled over his options.__

 _ _“What is this boy’s surname?” he demanded. He was sure it was of no consequence, but there was no harm in asking.__

 _ _

“A-Ambrosious,” Morgana stuttered in her haste to reply, still a bit shaken by his previous anger. She buried her unease deep within her, but it leaked slowly through her stone mask. 

Uther’s red completion melted to a milky white. 

“He said his name was far too long, so he shortened it. Ambrosious is just an abridged version,” she added, hoping to placate him. 

“Bring that boy in here!” Uther roared with a newfound urgency. 

The siblings jumped, unsettled by the king’s sudden change of manor. 

“Father, he is unwell,” Arthur attempted to reason. “He wasn’t even conscious the last time I saw him. What could be so urgent that you must interrupt his healing?” 

The king’s teeth clenched and his jaw pulsed. 

“That boy’s father was a traitor! He abandoned the court, was a Dragonlord!” Uther snapped. 

Arthur was surprised, but he thought for a moment while Morgana tried to look shocked. 

“With all due respect, Father, my manservant has confided in me that he never knew his father. Didn’t even know the man’s name. He had assumed that he had died while he was in the womb. His mother never spoke of the man.” 

Uther paced before his throne, tapping a gloved hand on his stiff lower lip. 

“You are sure that he knows nothing of his heritage?” the king frowned, the heels of his shoes tapping the marble floors. 

“Positive, Father. All of the Dragonlords have died out, as you know. The legacy died with Balinor. And even if the powers have passed to him, I have slain the last dragon. If we wish to hide Morgana’s impurity, he must be alive. He is ignorant and holds no connection to those beasts. We must play our cards right, for we no longer have a full deck.” 

The king sat heavily in his throne. He knew that his son was correct. It was something he would never admit, but they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. 

“I will think on this, but it seems as though we have little choice,” he mussed, bringing his fingers to his temple as if soothing an ache. 

“Thank you, sire,” Morgana spoke softly, curtsying as deeply as she could. 

“We will take our leave,” Arthur stated, grasping Morgana by the shoulders and pulling her towards the doors. 

Uther gave an absent nod. 

Once they were in the hall, Morgana shook her brother’s hands from their uncomfortable perch far too close to her neck. 

“So…” Arthur tried awkwardly. “How did you become, uh… deflowered?” 

It was an unseasonable situation and admittedly, Arthur had never had to deal with one quite like the one that was thrust upon him right then. 

Morgana walked onward, mulling over what to tell her half-brother. 

“Merlin and I… we needed to remind ourselves what love felt like. We had our weak and our strong moments. We still do, as you have seen. But that moment- that moment of weakness was thrust upon us. The disgusting guards wanted a fun time, but Merlin wouldn’t allow it. He fought even in chains, covering my body with his. He wouldn’t let them near me. They fought to the point where the guards said either he bed me, or they would.” 

*** _“You fucking bastard,” the filthy man spat. “You think you can get in the way of my fun time, boy?”_

 _The other two men flanking the man jeered._

 _

“Hey Weis,” the one to his right came forth, his tone too eager for comfort. “Why don’t we strike this little man a deal?” 

The first man hummed. 

“What kind’a deal were ya thinking?” 

The second man smiled in a feral snarl. 

“Either he fucks her senseless, while we watch, of we get to do it ourselves.” _***_

 _“Em-Merlin,” Morgana caught herself, “nearly broke then. It was the first time in our five-and-a-half month imprisonment that he cried in front of them, or at all.”_

 _

_Merlin’s eyes widened and filled with tears. He fought to keep the drops in, but the force of the horror that overwhelmed him pushed the tears over._

 _How could they _ask _that of him?___

 _ _ _His eyes stayed wide and unfocused as the diamond droplets slipped down his elfin features and onto Morgana’s cheeks and nose.___

 _ _ _

“E-Emmy,” she choked softly. Her eyes were like saucers, emerald green irises watching the tears emanation from his cobalt orbs with nauseating wonder. 

“Wh-what do I d-do?” he asked in a hoarse whisper. He was asking, not her, but himself. And for the life of him he could not find an answer. His arms shook from where they were braced beside her head. 

“Love me,” she whispered clemently, fisting her hand firmly in his hair. “Love me like they never would.” 

_“And love me he did,” she sighed, fingering the mass of curls about her shoulders. “I’d always wished for him to love me like that; with his body as well as his heart and soul. But not like that. Not with those men watching our love. We made the most of it, though.”_

 _

“Ar-are you with a child?” Arthur asked tentatively, twisting his fingers in a very un-princely way. 

“Morgana paused in her steps, truly thinking on the question. She did not turn to face the prince. 

“I do not know, but if I am, it was born of love, and nothing else.” 

_***He looked at her for a long moment, taking in her matted hair and dust-stained cheeks. She was beautiful. ___

___“Fuck her already!” the third guard called. _____

_____He was ignored. _______

_______Eyes never leaving hers, he lifted a shaking hand to caress her torso. Her dress was torn, and the once white silk had long ago turned a dull, foggy gray. _________

_________Where his work-worn fingers touched her exposed skin, heat bloomed. Long fingers skimmed up the expanse of her back, clumsily loosening the laces holding the precious fabric to her body. His hands hooked themselves beneath the silk, removing her modesty along with the cloth. ___________

___________Her thin fingers danced down his chest, which was bare from the primitive healing session that had been held just a few hours prior. They had not replaced his rags. _____________

_____________Everything was slow; from the movement of his hands pushing her shift past her hips to the way the tips of her fingers caressed his protruding cheekbones and full lips. _______________

_______________As she shifted to allow the fabric to glide past her legs, Merlin ever so softly kissed her lips. Her lips were not smooth and red as they once were so many months ago, but chapped and pink, like pale seashells. They were just as soft, though, despite the circumstances. _________________

_________________They poured everything into that kiss, all their love, all their passion. Morgana tensed when she heard the men spit harsh encouragements to go faster, but Merlin dragged her attention back to him. ___________________

___________________“Hey, hey, look at me,” his breath brushed against her lips “It’s just us. They don’t exist.” _____________________

_____________________Nodding, she pressed her lips more firmly to his, and his hands were brought to her breasts in a gentle hold. His thumbs skimmed and circled her pink nipples softly, and she hummed lowly. _______________________

_______________________Full lips prodding, he moved his way down her neck and to her bosom. He kissed and lavished her peaks and mounds, his tongue circling the pink rings one at a time. _________________________

_________________________His lips then went to the flat of her stomach, his tongue delving into her bellybutton teasingly. She moaned softly, threading her fingers through his ebony locks. Eventually he came to her womanhood, the very essence of her. ___________________________

___________________________The palms of his hands spread her thighs, and he took in a breath at her beauty. Despite their situation, she was eager for him, her essence dripping for his love. _____________________________

_____________________________Delving into her folds, he licked and nipped the diamond between her lower lips, massaging the nub lightly. _______________________________

_______________________________She mewled and keened quietly, her fingers gripping his hair and holding him to her core. _________________________________

_________________________________Sliding lower, Merlin lapped at her sweet nectar, humming in pleasure at the slightly sweet, slightly salty taste. ___________________________________

___________________________________He glade his lips back up her winsome form and back to her lips. _____________________________________

_____________________________________Morgana could taste herself on his lips and tongue, and she gave a half moan, at the taste of him mixed with her, half groan at the need for him blooming within her. _______________________________________

_______________________________________He understood her silent plea and moved the hand that was braced on her hip to her womanhood. He circled and teased her, until she pulled fiercely on his raven hair. _________________________________________

_________________________________________Fingers dancing within her, Merlin nipped and licked her lips, jaw, and neck. Her cries grew louder in volume and higher in pitch, contrary to her attempt to keep herself quiet. ___________________________________________

___________________________________________“Fuck her!” the men growled. _____________________________________________

_____________________________________________“Love me,” she breathed. _________________________________________________

_______________________________________________And with that soft whisper of a request, Merlin unlaced his trousers with a single hand, and pushed them down past his knobby knees and ankles, kicking them off._______________________________________________

 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He spread her legs and inched forward, his manhood stiff and aching, craving her heat. He took care to be gentle while inching into her, her tightness wrapping around him, smooth like silk. __________________________________________________

__________________________________________________It stretched and pulled her in ways she had never felt before. It was foreign, but the pain was not sharp like a sting until he reached her maidenhead. It was a split second where it broke and the prick made her flinch. The rest of the way was much like before: an ache on her walls, which was sharp but dull at the same time- acute. It was the kind of ache that alerts you, makes you feel filled with an odd energy. It pulled and tingled in a bright kind of way, like touching ice to a healing burn. ____________________________________________________

____________________________________________________Morgana shifted slightly. He filled her completely, and she sighed at the full feeling it gave her behind the ache. Merlin paused, sheathed to the hilt, his face hovering over her own. ______________________________________________________

______________________________________________________“Well come then, love. Haven’t the time to dally, do we?” she whispered fondly in his ear, pulling his chest to hers in a gentle embrace. ________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________Her fingers played with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck faintly, nuzzling his cheek a bit with the tip of her nose. __________________________________________________________

__________________________________________________________Merlin lifted himself a bit to look into her eyes and smile lovingly. ____________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________And with that lilt of the lips, he moved within her. ______________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________It was slow; a small shift of his shoulders and rock of his hips. It felt like falling; a rising feeling within her, slightly uncomfortable, but slightly pleasing. ________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________An “oh!” slipped from between her lips, a tiny exclamation. Merlin looked at her expectantly and smiled. She smiled in turn, nodding and fluttering his lashes in a teasing sort of way. __________________________________________________________________

__________________________________________________________________It was a dance of many speeds and rhythms; soft and slow to hard and fast. It varied, as did the sounds emanating from their mouths; from loud to quiet, mans being swallowed by lips and tongues and teeth as they joined in more ways than one. ____________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________Their finish was not grand, nor intense, but satisfying in way they never thought possible. ______________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________Morgana came first- Merlin made sure of that. She tightened her hold on his hips that she had claimed with her endless legs, pulling him to her firmly and pushing his hips to hers. ________________________________________________________________________

________________________________________________________________________She pulsed around him, her muscles convulsing sporadically, her mouth shaped in a tiny “o” before she bit her lip kindly to stifle her “mu-ah” of pleasure.________________________________________________________________________

 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Her moan melted into his as he, too, came to completion within her, spilling his seed and pulling her to him in a loving embrace, still sheathed inside her._________________________________________________________________________

 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _They ignored the world around them; the men who stood behind them, hands disgustingly thrust within their trousers, chafing their skins to a shallow finish; the cold stone walls surrounding them; the dusty cell floor laying harshly beneath their bare bodies; the chains binding their wrists. They saw nothing but each other. ____________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________And something beautiful came to be. _***_____________________________________________________________________________

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**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how often this will be updated, but I will try to be as diligent as possible. If you have any requests for the story, don't hesitate to ask. I'll consider everything you give me!


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